


the hours rise up, putting off stars

by blackkat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Blood and Violence, Fix-It, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, LOTS of violence, M/M, Warning: Sai, it's Sai, kind of, probably a lot of dick jokes too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-02-08 21:31:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12873447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Fate has always had a love-hate relationship with the members of Team 7, and Sai is just now realizing that's he's most definitely not exempt.





	1. and it is dawn

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on my Tumblr that I have sadly since lost, but basically asked for Sakumo/Sai. And, seeing as crack pairings are my catnip, this happened. Yay?

“I knew Dickless was an idiot, but I didn’t realize it was actually contagious,” Sai says, and it’s probably a bad sign that even he can't tell whether it’s a joke or not.

“That’s Dickless- _sama_ to you,” Naruto retorts cheerfully enough, and they both pretend they don’t hear his cough, or see the blood the bubbles up between his lips.

Wrist-deep in Naruto's stomach, chakra a flicker-flare of starburst brilliance around her, Sakura doesn’t even glance up. “Naruto, stop talking. Sai, this is just logic. We’re not going to make it out, but you have a chance to get to Kiri if you leave now.”

Sai takes a breath, and it _aches_ , fails to fill his lungs completely through the knot in his throat. He curls the fingers of his unbroken hand around the kunai he’s still holding, so tight his nails dig into his palm, and doesn’t allow himself to waver, though if he’s ever wanted to, the moment is now.

“I'm not going to leave my Hokage by himself,” he says, and the words are perfectly light but still weigh like lead in his mouth. “He’ll fall off a cliff and get himself killed.”

The joke falls flat enough that even Sakura, distracted as she is, gives him a dark look. With a grimace, she pulls back, and skin halfheartedly slides in to seal the wound in her wake, though not enough. Not nearly enough, when they're going to have to keep fighting.

Sai's broken wrist twinges, and he pulls it a little closer to him, hiding it in his lap. The splint is tight enough that he doesn’t have to worry too much about jostling it, but it’s still a hindrance they can't afford. For a moment, he lets himself consider that that’s why they're trying so hard to send him away, but it’s a thought that’s easily quashed. Sai has a broken wrist, but Sakura is running on the very last dregs of her chakra, even with the Strength of a Hundred Seal active, and Naruto is still wavering on the edge of complete collapse from the Kyuubi's extraction. The creatures are closing in, and as much as Sai will never admit it, Sakura is absolutely correct.

They're not going to make it out.

Even now, though, Sai is the ANBU Commander, the Hokage's very last line of defense. Maybe, _maybe_ he could make it to Kiri if he ran, but he won't. There's nothing in him that can allow Naruto to die first, before Sai has spent every last breath and ounce of blood to keep him alive and safe.

Safe is a pipe dream in these circumstances, but that doesn’t change anything. Sai isn’t going to abandon his duty just because there's a chance he’ll survive for a few weeks more. He’s never been afraid of death before, and he isn’t about to start now.

With another ragged cough, Naruto hauls himself halfway up, sliding back to brace himself against a tree. He rubs his chest, like that will do anything at all to relieve the hole ripped into his soul, but his blue eyes are steady when he turns them on Sai.

“Shikamaru is in Kiri,” he says, like that matters anything at all.

Sai just gives him his best blank smile, the next best thing to feigning stupidity, and doesn’t answer.

It makes Naruto huff, which makes him cough, but he waves Sakura off when she starts for him. “Sai,” he says in clear exasperation, the kind Sai has usually only heard directed at Sasuke at his most obtuse. “He’s still the Jounin Commander. He needs to know that we found the lab these things broke out of—”

“Lazybones will be able to figure that out when we don’t report back,” Sai points out, and smiles. “There's nothing I can tell him that will matter, anyway.”

Sakura's mouth tightens, but the fact that she doesn’t argue speaks volumes. Her expression is grim as she unstoppers her canteen, pouring water over her hands the wash the blood off, and Sai has seen her a thousand different ways but never this…dark. Not quite hopeless—because no one can ever be hopeless with Naruto still breathing—but maybe close to it.

“One of us should survive, at least,” she says, and tries for a smile. “Team 7 has lasted this long. It seems like a shame to end our lucky streak here.”

Sai doesn’t bother telling her that if he’s the last surviving member of Team 7, he can't guarantee that he won't just fling himself into the first suicidal mission he finds. He’s pretty sure she knows, regardless.

“The Naka River is only a few miles from here,” Sai says instead. “I can clear a path for you.”

“We want you to _survive_ , not commit suicide,” Sakura says tartly, tugging her gloves back on. She looks south, towards the river, but after a moment she grimaces. “If we move Naruto, the wounds will reopen, and I don’t have enough chakra to reclose them.”

Naruto makes a quiet sound of agreement, tipping his head back against the tree, and his smile is still present, but it’s pale and strained. Not quite fake, but…the closest to it Sai has seen in a very long time. “Kurama sacrificed himself, and even that wasn’t enough. I'm not letting you do the same, Sai,” he says, and there's really nothing to be added. Sai tries to breathe, to focus, but—

He can still hear Kurama’s screams as Danzō’s creatures tore him out of Naruto's body and devoured him. It’s impossible to even _begin_ to imagine how Naruto is feeling right now, in the wake of that.

“We have a few more minutes here at best,” he says, tipping his head to check the position of the sun. If he had any ink left, they could travel, or at least shield themselves, but he’s been down to a few drops of chakra-laced blood at the bottom of his ink bottle for almost a week now. There were supposed to be stores in Konoha, but Konoha is entirely gone, razed to rubble under the force of the experimental creatures. They were supposed to have been stable, kept in stasis since Danzō’s death, but a single spark of chakra from an unwary chuunin out exploring and now the world may as well be ending.

“ _You_ have a few minutes,” Naruto says, almost gently. “You need to go, Sai. That’s an order.”

Sai gives him his cheerfullest smile. “Ah, I suppose you’ll have to write me up for insubordination when we get back to Kiri. That’s a shame.”

“Sai!” Naruto protests, and the beginnings of anger twist his face, make him clench his fists. Sai just beams at him, unbothered by the implied threat. Sakura can't walk, and Naruto can't even stand, and Sai hates it but he won't hesitate to use it to his advantage.

“I'm not going to leave,” he says simply. “You should accept that, Dickless, and start looking for a way out.”

There's a long, long moment of silence as Sakura and Naruto trade glances, and then Sakura bites her lip. “…I have those scrolls,” she says, careful and thoughtful. “From the lab. Maybe one of the seals…?”

Naruto looks from Sakura to Sai, takes a shallow breath, and nods once. “It’s worth a try,” he agrees. “Let’s look.”

Sai hides his sigh of relief as they pull the scrolls out and open them. He doesn’t try to get closer, content to keep an eye on the forest around them as Naruto and Sakura mutter to each other. The handfuls of seals Sai knows are all ANBU standard and won't help against chakra-eating shadow-beasts, as they’ve already thoroughly learned. Besides, it’s a relief not to have to be the team’s hopeful one anymore; it’s not anything close to a position Sai is used to taking.

Leaves rustle, and Sai's head snaps around.

Naruto and Sakura don’t notice, deep in an argument, but Sai shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet, flicking a glance over their surroundings and trying to spot any shadows moving in ways they shouldn’t. It could have been the breeze, or an animal, but after all these years Sai is finally getting used to Team 7’s luck and is willing to stake his life on the odds that it isn’t.

He lets his kunai rest on his knee, slowly and carefully reaches up over his shoulder to draw his sword without his teammates noticing, and his eyes aren’t quite focused on any one spot, just skimming, waiting for—

Movement, and Sai doesn’t even have to think as he lunges.

Perfectly silent, a shadow explodes out of the undergrowth, and Sai has half a second to register too many limbs, too many eyes, a constantly shifting mass of dark flesh before he’s right on top of it. His tantō slices through spidery legs, and he turns sharply, lets a gaping maw full of shark-like teeth tear into his armor as he kicks out hard. It’s already reforming, shifting into something heavier with tree-trunk legs and a massive barrel body, and Sai drops low, lets it crash over him and right into a tree as he stabs upward, drags his tantō back in a motion that would gut any other creature. What hits him instead, though, is drops of chakra given form, corrosive and hungry, and he hisses as they splatter his face, rolls out of the way as the thing crashes to the ground with an eerie, wavering roar.

Back on his feet, he spins, automatically grabbing for his sketchbook, but it’s not there, lost days ago in another attack. Sai doesn’t waste his breath cursing, just throws himself forward, kicks a multifaceted eye that blooms in the middle of a wedge-shaped head, then dives beneath snapping jaws.

“Go!” he shouts, though there's little hope Naruto and Sakura will listen.

Unsurprisingly, a gloved hand catches one mantis-like leg, and with a snarl Sakura hurls the creature right off its mismatched legs and back into the trees. “Naruto!” she cries, and behind them chakra sparks with a sound of effort. Naruto gasps out a warning that’s less a word and more a desperate sound, and Sakura and Sai split, throwing themselves to the side without hesitation. The shadow-beast is already lunging back, body elongating, changing in a nauseating lurch of motion and not-quite-solid flesh, but blue light is blazing. Sai rolls to one knee, watching the seal burn itself into the air, and the creature crashes into it and—

Vanishes, completely and utterly.

Sai's breath snags on a flare of tearing, wrenching hope. The thing is gone, didn’t need them to kill it the way all the rest did. It’s _gone_ and it’s _not coming back_ and what if this is it? What is this is the thing that can save them?

And then he catches the flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye, even as Sakura starts to laugh.

Not just one more shadow-beast, but _dozens_. Hard to tell exactly as they change and morph, but they ring the clearing, pushing out of the undergrowth like monsters out of the darkest types of nightmares. Sakura's laughter turns to a despairing cry, and Naruto's eyes widen as he shoves himself to his feet. Sai sees blood start to spill, delicate skin tearing, but there's no _time_. He’s already moving, intercepting the one that tries to lunge right at Naruto. It crashes into his tantō as he braces the blade, throws him back—

Naruto cries a warning, even as a dark shape tackles him from behind. Chakra bursts as Sakura lunges for him, but there's a tentacle of darkness wrapped around her ankle and it’s nowhere near enough power, not even _close_. The lurching fall into despair is dizzying, but Sai pushes through it, cuts the beast’s head off before it can grow any sort of armor. More acidic chakra pours out, a wash that eats into the ground, but Sai leaps over it, slams down feet-first on top of another one and drives his blade into its back. The beheaded one is still moving sluggishly, body rippling, and it won't be long until it reforms, but Sai can't stop to burn it, can't give the others that much of an opening.

Behind him, there's a sharp scream that cuts off, and Naruto cries out.

Sai spins, leaping clear, but he’s already too late. Sakura goes down, buried under darkly shifting forms, and Sai catches a glimpse of wide green eyes gone blank as she’s devoured.

“No!” Naruto shouts, takes a step, stumbles.

It’s a sign of weakness, and the creatures were clearly waiting for just that.

Sai crashes bodily into the first one to lunge, wrestles it down even as it tries to grab him, and drives an exploding tag through its skull. But a second one is already bursting past him, grabbing Naruto and sinking long needle-teeth into his shoulder. Naruto cries out, kicks at it, but he’s weak and fading and Sai can't _get to him_. There's another beast in the way, a third closing in, and he snarls, struggles to get enough leverage to jump but can't, and Naruto is already falling, still fighting, but—

An ox-like head slams into Sai, catching him in the side and throwing him aside like a ragdoll. He crashes into the ground, rolls to his feet and tries not to stagger, but there's another creature between him and Naruto. Not enough to stop him, because that’s _Naruto_ and Sai will save his Hokage regardless of anything.

He lunges, slides low, but a feeler winds itself around his arm as he rises and turns. It snaps the splint, and Sai can't help the cry of agony that’s wrenched from him. The creature drags him closer, reels him in, and Sai hisses, slashes down to cut through the tentacle and—

Something heavy hits him, sends him sprawling before he can find his balance. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of blue, the seal still open and glowing, wide enough for two men abreast.

It’s a mad idea, but Sai isn’t about to be the last member of Team 7 left standing. He plants his feet right in front of the seal, spins upright and braces himself, just as a spark of chakra goes out.

“ _No_ ,” Sai snarls, and it’s ripped from somewhere deep within his chest. He turns, disregarding the beasts already lunging at him, and is just in time to see one tanned hand fall limply to the ground, the rest of Naruto's body already covered by writhing, consuming shadow.

The scrape of massive claws across the back of his armor is almost a relief, in light of that sight.

He falls forward, rolls to get distance, and comes to his feet already stabbing backwards to drive the creature away. There's a sharp recoil, but then another body slams into him, throwing him forward. Sai's tantō is wrenched from hi hand, but he doesn’t let himself hesitate, grabs for his last exploding tag and wrenches around—

Blue light swallows everything for a blinding, breathless moment.

No time to waver, even now; he halfway expects to feel himself disappearing, fading out now that he’s through the seal, but since he’s not he needs to move. He hurls the tag over his shoulder into the beast’s mouth, then kicks off hard, sends himself spinning down through blue-washed nothingness as it detonates. He can't quite make out his surroundings, can't see well enough to mark anything, but then it doesn’t matter where he was because he isn’t there anymore.

Sai falls through a frame of familiar blue, touched with Naruto's chakra, tumbles into darkness like gravity has abruptly reasserted itself. Even when his mind is dazed and fogged his instincts are still there, though, and he throws up a shroud of chakra to cushion the impact of his body just in time. Stone cracks under the force of the blow, and Sai lets the momentum throw him forward, ducks his head and rolls up into a ready crouch, kunai already in hand.

He’s not alone, is the first thing that registers. There are shinobi around him, three figures with dark uniforms who are wearing blank white masks, and a man in front of him who isn’t, dark haired and straight-backed. There’s a scar on the man’s chin, bandages over his right eye, and the look on his face is less startled than it is calculating, cold.

Sai takes one look at him and knows precisely where he is.

Without an instant of hesitation, Sai dives forward out of his crouch, straight past Danzō’s side. The man turns sharply, but Sai is already halfway across the floor of the cavern, dodging the Doton jutsu that nearly traps his ankles. One hard leap carries him over the metal table scattered with forms—assessments, he thinks, with the part of his brain that isn’t caught up in action and reaction—and he snatches up a bottle of ink that’s been left uncorked, flips over a Katon jutsu, and brings the thumb of his broken wrist up to his mouth. a hard bite tears the skin, and he immediately flattens the small wound against the top of the ink bottle, counting drops even as he grabs for his one unbroken brush. Five drops of blood, seven, twelve—

He flings himself around one of Danzō’s scything Fuuton blades, ducks and rolls and comes to his feet in front of the wall. A clone made of ink leaps back into the fight, dodging around the Root shinobi, and Sai dips his brush into the chakra-laced ink with the surety of decades spent repeating the motion. The lines come easily, broad sweeps of the brush that leave unrelieved blackness behind. No time for finesse, because he can feel the clone shattering under a sword, but that’s fine; Sai has gotten used to working under pressure.

Even as he darts sideways, throwing himself into the smallest of the Root shinobi and knocking the tantō from his hand, a massive tiger pulls itself from the wall, and a dragon slides down to join it. The Root members scatter, but the drawings are too quick, too practiced; the tiger goes for one, and dragon for the other, and Sai drives his elbow into the throat of the one he’s grappling with, catches the tantō as it falls, and kills the shinobi with a quick, slashing blow to the neck.

Fighting humans is so much easier than fighting the shadow-beasts. Sai had almost forgotten how simple it is, to face other shinobi. Humans die so easily.

The last of his creatures, a massive hawk, pulls itself free of the stone and goes sweeping past him, aiming for Danzō with its talons bared, and Sai follows, swift and silent as a shadow. This isn’t the Danzō he knew—no cane, no covered arm, nowhere near the deftness Sai remembers. It’s still _Danzō_ , though, and Sai thinks of Naruto's hand, limp and lax as he was eaten alive for his chakra by the creatures this man created, and wants to scream.

He doesn’t, because Danzō trained him too well for that. Doesn’t because Danzō is trying to say something, but there's a ringing in Sai's ears that’s loud enough to drown him out. He can just barely hear his own heartbeat over the shrill pitch, too fast and too close to unsteady but not enough to stop him. A slash to Danzō’s shoulder, beneath the cover of the hawk’s wings, a roll to carry him under a Fuuton jutsu, and he can't think of anything but how Naruto favored them, how Naruto died. Sai failed his Hokage, lost his charge, lost _everything_ , and all of it is down to Danzō’s blind search for more and more power.

The hawk catches Danzō by the hair, wrenches his head back even as its wings beat hard enough to obscure his vision. Danzō snarls something, maybe a curse, but Sai doesn’t pay attention to anything but the opening. He throws himself in, stolen tantō leading, and drives the blade right through Danzō’s chest.

He doesn’t expect it to be that easy. Danzō falls, tumbles to the ground as Sai wrenches his sword free, and Sai waits for the shimmer of Izanagi, waits for the shift in reality that means Danzō triggered his most powerful cheat of death, but—

There's nothing. Nothing but the sound of a body hitting the floor, collapsed like a puppet without strings. Sai knows death, has seen it before countless times, and yet—this doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel _true_. He never met Danzō’s eyes, though, can't be trapped in a genjutsu. This has to be real, but it just feels wrong.

With a shuddering gasp that’s almost a cry, Sai crumples to his knees beside Danzō’s body. A shiver wracks him, shakes him to the bone, and before he can even register the movement he’s raising his sword, bringing the blade down hard. It’s well-maintained, perfectly sharpened, and Danzō’s head rolls away, spilling blood.

It doesn’t bring Naruto or Sakura back to life, though.

With a low cry, Sai recoils from the body of the man who used to be his master, scrambles back until he slams into the wall and can't go any further. Distantly, vaguely, he thinks he can hear his creatures still fighting, but he can't even bring himself to care. Danzō is dead, and Naruto is dead, and Sakura is dead. Sai is somewhere he isn’t supposed to be, and the seal he fell through is gone. There's no way of knowing how he got here, or how to get back, and even if he _did_ there's no use, because Sai failed. His Hokage died, and he wasn’t able to do anything to stop it.

Sai pulls his knees up, buries his face and wraps his arms over his head, trying not to lose control. Trying not to break apart, even though there doesn’t seem to be any reason to hold himself together. Not here and now, when everything is lost. He takes a shuddering breath, another, focuses on that and doesn’t move.

For a long time, he stays like that, perfectly still, perfectly wretched. Even when there's a shout, a cry. Even when figures stumble into the room, talking in loud voices and walking around with their chakra loose and blazing instead of safely sealed so that the beasts can't find them. Sai doesn’t make himself look up, because it’s just more proof that he’s far from his own place. Distantly, he’s aware that he’s covered in blood, that his tantō is still next to him, that one of Konoha's honored elders is dead a handful of steps away, but he can't care through the ringing in his ears, the numb blankness that’s filled his head.

The first touch of a hand makes him jerk, automatically grabbing for the tantō. Someone intercepts him before he can reach it, though, catches his broken wrist and holds him still. Sai cries out, recoiling, and instantly the hand is gone. There's a voice above him, something low and soft and soothing, and Sai finally registers at least the tone of it. He catches himself with his good hand, looking up, and slowly, slowly a face swims into view. White hair, he thinks, though he can't make his eyes focus all the way. And…

He reaches with his good hand, feels the man go still but doesn’t let it stop him. His fingers brush over metal, then the engraved leaf, and he thinks of Naruto again, killed by nightmares and ripped apart from the inside, with Sai unable to save him no matter what he did.

“They're all dead,” he tells the man, and it comes out as rough and fractured as if he’s been screaming, even though Sai knows he hasn’t. “All of them. I couldn’t—I wasn’t strong enough to save them.”

Fingers catch his, squeezing gently. “Shh,” the man says. “I'm sure you tried your hardest, and they must have known that. Sometimes that’s all we can do.”

It’s still a failure, still a loss of the closest thing Sai has ever had to a stable family. He slumps against the stone, tipping his head back, and wonders if this is what it feels like to cry. His cheeks aren’t wet, though—even now, like this, he can't show that much emotion, that much weakness.

He feels it, though. It seems like it’s _all_ he can feel, right now.

The man puts a hand on his shoulder, gripping gently. _Pressure point_ , something in Sai whispers, always alert, but he doesn’t care. Welcomes the darkness, if this man wants to kill him, because it isn’t right for him to survive and Naruto and Sakura to die. No world should leave him as Team 7’s sole surviving member, and Sai hates the fate that would leave him here alone with a ferocity he’s never felt before.

“Shh,” the shinobi says again. “I'm going to put you to sleep, all right? Rest might make all of this easier to bear.”

It won't, but before Sai can tell him as much there's a sharp pressure, and then all he knows is dreamless darkness.


	2. into the street of the sky

“Captain!” a voice calls, and Sakumo glances up even as he eases the survivor back against the wall.

“Over here,” he returns, not bothering to keep his voice down. The young man will likely be asleep for at least eight hours—maybe more, if Sakumo’s suspicions are correct and he really is on the edge of chakra exhaustion.

Inoichi ducks around the corner of the tunnel, picking his way past the three bodies sprawled across the floor in various stages of dismemberment. When he sees the dark-haired stranger, his mouth goes tight, and he crouches down next to Sakumo. “Another one? That brings the total up to—”

“No, this one’s still alive,” Sakumo interrupts gently, and when the teenager blinks, pale eyes widening, he can't help but smile a little. “I can't feel his chakra either. He must have completely depleted his reserves.”

“Oh.” A little subdued, Inoichi reaches out, like he’s testing the heat from a flame, and then tips his head. “Not exhausted, I think. His chakra isn’t flickering the way it normally would in that case. It’s just…quiet.”

Sakumo isn’t about to doubt the word of one of the strongest sensors the Yamanaka have ever produced. He just nods, writing it off as a skill, maybe a bloodline—useful for a shinobi, certainly, but hardly the oddest he’s encountered.

“We need to get him to a medic,” he says, and braces himself as he reaches out to tug the young man up. He comes easily, lighter than Sakumo expected for someone his age and height, and it makes Sakumo frown.

“Something wrong, Captain?” Inoichi asks, already moving to duck around Sakumo's side and carefully grasp the stranger’s broken wrist. He settles limbs as Sakumo hefts the shinobi up, and Sakumo debates for a moment how he wants to answer that.

“Not exactly _wrong_ ,” he admits, and pushes carefully to his feet. “Just—a lot of little things that aren’t quite right.”

Inoichi’s answering smile is wry. “I think a lot of things can fall under that category right now.”

Sakumo doesn’t look at the bodies in this room, in the hall. He knows about Root, though he can't say for certain he knows any of the members. But—they aren’t supposed to have a base here, past the edge of Konoha. Aren’t supposed to have this many active black ops shinobi when Konoha is between wars. Danzō’s presence is to be expected, as he’s commander, but—

There are details that don’t add up. Unfamiliar faces, when Sakumo prides himself on knowing most shinobi in Konoha by sight. Unfamiliar clan children, the setup for permanent barracks in an unknown base. Just a handful of these oddities Sakumo might dismiss, but all together, and with the bloody massacre that’s taken place, he can't afford to.

“Is Yoshino back yet?” he asks, instead of letting Inoichi see how he’s dwelling on the secrets here.

Inoichi shakes his head, falling into step with Sakumo as he heads for the entrance. “She probably got held up with the Hokage.”

Hopefully only because Sarutobi is mobilizing the jounin, Sakumo thinks, but doesn’t say. Though, of course, it’s possible he’s grieving, as well. Danzō was one of his oldest friends, which is why Sakumo sent Yoshino to report the moment he realized whose head was sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Captain,” a voice says, lazy on the surface but intent beneath, and Shikaku drops from above them, landing lightly beside his teammate. “No other survivors, but the creatures turned into ink.”

“Ink,” Sakumo repeats in surprise, because that’s certainly not a shinobi skill belonging to anyone in the village right now. He glances down at the man in his arms, head resting on his shoulder, and at this angle it’s easy to see the dark splashes on his skin. Sakumo took them for blood at first, but—

He shifts his grip, easing one hand free, and skims a finger over one of the spots. It smears wetly, and Sakumo raises his thumb to his nose. The smell of good ink is sharp and familiar, but underneath it is a coppery undertone, an addition that stands out. Blood dripped into the mix, Sakumo assumes, and it’s very close to an Uzumaki technique, to how they paint their seals to give them extra power.

“Is Kushina still out of the village?” he asks, glancing up at Inoichi, who tends to keep up with the rumors more than Shikaku.

Inoichi looks a little surprised by the line of questioning, though Shikaku's eyes sharpen. “Yes,” he says. “For at least another week. She and Mikoto reported a delay in their mission yesterday.”

Shikaku's expression shifts to exasperation. “Isn’t that an ­ _S-rank mission_?” he demands. “Why do you know that?”

Inoichi gives him a sunny smile and doesn’t answer.

Smothering an inappropriate chuckle, Sakumo lifts the Root member a little higher on his shoulder and steps past the two younger jounin. “Shikaku, take charge of the cleanup,” he says, and pretends not to hear Shikaku's quiet groan of dismay. “I’m taking this one to the hospital. He’s going to need a guard until we figure out what happened here.”

“A guard to keep him from bolting, or a guard to keep him from being killed by someone else?” Inoichi asks, but Sakumo has no answer to give him.

 

 

There's no moment when Sai doesn’t remember what happened.

He comes awake with look on Danzō’s face right behind his eyes, the memory of Naruto's cry ringing in his ears, Sakura's desperation beating a tattoo against his chest. Some instinct urges him to go, to move, to throw himself out of bed and run, but the fading numbness of horror weighs down his limbs. He takes a breath, careful and steady because Sai is _always_ careful and steady, and then lets it out as he opens his eyes.

There's a plain white ceiling above him, the smell of antiseptic in the air. Chakra all around him, free and burning, and it’s been so long since Sai felt such a thing that it’s almost staggering. Everyone before hid their chakra, because that was what drew the beasts. But now—

“Awake?” a soft voice asks, and Sai turns his head towards the closest chakra signal, blinking against the glow of bright light bouncing off the tiled floor. There's a man sitting beside his bed, unfamiliar but recognizable at the same time.

 _Kakashi-sensei_ , Sai wants to say, because Naruto and Sakura's habit managed to stick with him as well. It’s not correct, though; this isn't Kakashi, despite the resemblance. Younger, for one thing, and he’s unmasked, with a smile on his face that reaches his eyes in a way Kakashi’s usually doesn’t. but the shape of his face, the color of his hair, the storm-bite of his chakra—Sai knows them very well.

“Unfortunately,” he answers, and it comes out as a rasp, rough and unpleasant. Sai grimaces, then gets an arm underneath himself and pushes up, testing the motion. There's no pain beyond a faint ache in his shoulder, though, the aftereffect of a pressure point hit hard enough to knock him out, but it’s easy to ignore.

Not-Kakashi chuckles a little, leaning forward in his chair. “Fortunate that you can be conscious at all,” he says. “With the way your chakra system was shut down, the medics weren’t sure how to help you. Now that you’re awake—”

 _Not shut down, hidden,_ Sai doesn’t say. Just offers one of the bright, empty smiles that always made Naruto so irritated. “Ah, I forgot,” he lies. It seems too dangerous to be borne, letting his chakra go at all, but if everyone here has theirs loose and are still alive it’s his only chance to fit in. not all the way, but…

He breathes out, lets the tight knot of his chakra expand just a little, and it feels like warmth sliding back into all of his limbs. Pure relief, and for so long he’s been cold—

Cold like the place he fell through, coming here. Here, where Danzō is—was—alive, without the Sharingan eyes stolen from a dozen Uchiha. To a place with Root, but none of the faces Sai should have recognized. With a strange man who has Kakashi’s face but none of his mannerisms.

“This is…” he starts.

“The hospital,” the man supplies without hesitation.

Sai thinks of the Root base, the unfamiliar soldiers, Danzō’s head rolling away from his blade. It makes the breath shudder out of his lungs with something like satisfaction, or maybe pure relief. Dead. The greatest monster of his childhood is gone.

Now there’s no one to create the creatures that destroyed Sai's world.

As the thought registers, he pauses. Considers, and—time. Time and space must have been components of that seal Naruto used, and when Sai fell through the portal opened somewhere else entirely. Some _when_ else entirely. Danzō was—different. Lesser. That’s why Sai killed him so easily.

Sasuke would have approved, Sai thinks, a little dazed. Shin too.

He sits all the way up, letting the blanket fall to pool in his lap, and looks at his wrist, where the characters for Shin’s name are still etched into his skin. _New_ , to anyone who doesn’t know, but Sai presses his fingers over the pulse-point and lets the pulse of blood beneath Shin’s name keep him grounded.

 _I'm in a different time,_ he thinks, and tips his head, considering the implications. He should probably refill his supply of ink at some point in the near future, now that there are supplies available.

“What’s your name?” not-Kakashi asks, strangely gentle, and Sai blinks, looking up. Doesn’t think what Naruto would say, confronted with this sideways reflection of his teacher, barely a handful of years older than Sai himself.

“Sai,” he says, because the name is his at this point in a way no other will ever be, and he’ll never give it up. No need to lie, either, since this is likely before he was born, going by Danzō’s abilities.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sai.” The man smiles at him, reaching out to touch Sai's arm where it rests against his knee. “I'm Hatake Sakumo.”

Oh. Kakashi’s father, then. Sai studies him, concluding that that fact certainly explains the resemblance. And the time period, as well—if Sakumo is still alive, that means Kakashi is less than eight years old, and maybe less than seven. The Uchiha Clan Downfall hasn’t happened yet, and Danzō had no Sharingan to use Izanagi with.

Something in Sai's chest settles, eases. No chance of resurrection, then. Danzō really is dead. No chance of monsters, either, no world to be ruined by forgotten experiments and a paranoid greed that only desired more and more power.

 _I can save them,_ Sai thinks. It’s like a revelation, a burst of hope the same as he got when Naruto would smile at him in the darkest situations. _They aren’t here yet, but I can make sure there won't be anything to harm them_. It’s the ANBU Commander’s duty to protect his Hokage, isn't it? Sai will just be…preemptive this time. Prepared. He knows precisely what’s going to happen, after all. Simple enough to stop it before it actually becomes a threat.

It means Sai won't be what he was to Naruto and Sakura and Yamato, but that’s all right. As long as they have the chance to exist, Sai doesn’t mind.

Fingers touch his wrist next to his tattoo, and Sai looks up sharply, catching dark grey eyes. Sakumo smiles at him, but this time it’s a little strained, touched with something grim. “Sai,” he says, quiet, almost apologetic, “do you think you can tell me what happened in the base?”

Ah. This would be the point where Sai has to lie, he assumes. But—believable lies. Or at least reasonable ones. Maybe at one point he would have told Sakumo outright about the portal through time, but—that’s not what this mission needs. If Sai gets himself counted as a threat, he won't be able to stay in the village.

“Danzō-sama came to perform an inspection,” he says, and gives Sakumo another blank smile. Sakura and Naruto always tell— _told_ him that they were creepy, and Sai doesn’t need to mask his eeriness. Better to have it seen and linked back to Danzō, after all. “He had a mission for Root.”

“For the members at the base?” Sakumo asks.

“No,” Sai tells him, and it’s easy enough to keep smiling, to remember all the many, many reports he and Sasuke pulled from the Root bases after Danzō died in their time. “It was for his guards. We were supposed to be bodies.”

He can see the incomprehension that flickers across Sakumo's face, the lack of understanding as the man frowns. “Bodies,” he repeats slowly.

“As decoys,” Sai explains, and it’s true enough. Maybe not that base, maybe not right then, but Danzō used the bodies of Root shinobi to frame Akatsuki so Hanzō would attack them, used Root operatives disguised as Iwa and Suna shinobi to push Konoha into the Third War in the name of making the village stronger. “Danzō-sama meant to have us killed so he could use our bodies on a mission.”

There's a long, long minute of silence. Sakumo sits frozen, and Sai keeps his smile in place, watching him.

“Bodies,” Sakumo finally says again, and takes a breath. His face is several shades paler than it was, and his eyes have gone distant, his body language unsettled as he pulls in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking back in his chair. “I see. His guards were to kill you?”

“Five squads’ worth of us,” Sai confirms, and then thinks of Naruto, of Sakura. His smile slips, and it _hurts_ , but—useful, it’s useful. Like drawing blood for his ink. “I couldn’t—”

A hand catches his shoulder as Sakumo rises to his feet, not aiming for a pressure point this time, just squeezing gently in reassurance. “You stood against him,” Sakumo says, holding Sai's gaze. “No one would have expected you to be able to win against such odds, Sai.”

Something catches in Sai's throat, lodges there with an ache that lances down through his chest and up behind his eyes. He thinks, again, of Naruto falling, the lax hand that hit the ground as he was eaten alive. “ _I_ expected me to win,” he gets out, and it’s more truth than he intended. “I should have—”

Because Naruto and Sakura _could_ have gotten away if they’d gone through the portal. They might have been able to survive if he’d known, and there was no way to do so but—

Sai hates to feel like this, all the pain of failure bubbling up in his chest to drown him. It isn't supposed to _hurt_.

“Even if you weren’t able to save your comrades this time,” Sakumo tells him, and the fingers on his shoulder tighten faintly, “think about next time. Think about how many won't have to die because of your actions. You dealt with the most pressing threat. You fixed the problem.”

He’ll never know how much those words help. Can't, without actually knowing Sai's circumstances. But even so, they ease the steely band around Sai's lungs, and his next breath comes just a little more readily. He dips his head, not quite able to meet Sakumo's gaze this time, and looks down at his hands for wont of something better to do.

“Do you think you can show me on a map where the rest of the Root bases are?” Sakumo asks, but out of the corner of his eye Sai sees the man glance over at the door, a flicker of wariness on his face and a touch of threat to the set of his mouth.

Sai doesn’t glance at the door too, doesn’t want to give away that he’s seen. Just smiles, tipping his head. “Of course. Do you have a map with you?”

“In my home,” Sakumo says easily. He offers Sai his hand with a smile. “Do you think you’re well enough to make it there?”

Something in the back of Sai's head that sounds like Sakura is telling him that it’s not the usual sort of thing that happens, a jounin inviting a stranger back to their house without reason. There's not really any cause to refuse, though, or at least Sai can't think of any; Sakumo is related to Kakashi, so he’s trustworthy. He’s a Konoha shinobi, and he hasn’t made any move against Sai yet, nor has he shown any signs that he’s actually in league with Danzō. Safe enough, Sai judges, and if he ends up being wrong he can fix it. By killing Sakumo, if that’s most expedient.

“Of course,” he answers, and slides out of bed, ignoring Sakumo's hand. His legs are steady, and the broken wrist has healed like it was never injured in the first place. He flexes it carefully, checking his range of motion, and then looks for his clothes, which are…nowhere to be found.

Noticing the direction of his thoughts, Sakumo makes an apologetic sound. “Your uniform was soaked in blood,” he says. “I salvaged your weapons and what was in your pockets, but nothing else.”

Sai was running low on all of his materials, had nothing of much value with him besides his tantō and his brushes. Still, hearing that his clothes are entirely gone is…unsettling. Strange. He doesn’t quite like it, though he can't pinpoint why. “Thank you,” he says instead of protesting, though, because there's nothing to be done about it. Given the amount of blood he crawled through in the Root base, there was no salvaging his uniform.

Sakumo gives him a smile that’s equal parts apologetic and inviting him to share a joke. “No one will see you if my shunshin is fast enough?”

Sai blinks, because that’s—that’s a Naruto solution to the problem. That’s _very much_ a Naruto solution. It’s so startling that it makes him take a step back, bumping into the edge of the bed and sitting down hard. Concern flashes across Sakumo's face, but before he can move there's a scrape in Sai's throat, a tightness in his lungs. He laughs, doesn’t expected it even as it cracks out of his chest and shakes through him, but—

It’s laughter. He’s laughing. That’s something Naruto would have suggested if Sai had to streak home from the hospital, probably something Naruto _did_ when escaping Sakura's wrath, and Sai hasn’t really laughed in so long. Hasn’t allowed himself happy thoughts, or memories of the past, or anything but war with all of them on the losing side. But this—it’s good. It’s a good thought.

With a quiet chuckle in answer, Sakumo leans down, offering Sai his hand again. “May I take that as a yes?” he asks, humor in his grey eyes, but the lines of his face are kind, like he knows what a moment of laughter means.

Sai ducks his head, hiding the last few giggles as they fade, and then takes Sakumo's hand, letting the man pull him to his feet. “I,” he manages, a little breathless in a way that’s good for the first time in a year, “I read that public nudity is socially frowned upon unless it’s contained within a bathhouse.”

Sakumo blinks in surprise, then snorts. “For the most part,” he confirms. “But you're not naked.”

“Would you like me to be?” Sai asks curiously, tilting his head to the side. He’s terrible at picking up on that sort of thing, after all. Ino always despaired of him because of it.

The question doesn’t make Sakumo recoil, and he doesn’t screech or try to hit Sai, either. It’s definitely different from most people. “Not at this moment, no,” he answers, just a little dry. “If you can keep that robe on for a few more minutes, though, we should be going.”

 _Ah_ , Sai thinks. Doesn’t bother asking who Sakumo believes is after them, but looks for his misappropriated ink bottle automatically. “Should I leave a clone?”

There's a brief pause, and then Sakumo huffs out a breath that’s close to a laugh. “You're very mission-oriented,” he says, but not like it’s a complaint. “No, I think it would be best if they find the room empty. I don’t want you leaving a chakra signature, either.”

Well. That’s easy enough, given the world Sai just left. He pulls his chakra back the way they were all forced to learn, leaving just a little trickling through his veins and the rest curled deep inside of himself. All it takes is a moment of concentration, and then he steps up to Sakumo's side by the window. “A shunshin, you said?”

Sakumo flashes him a faintly distracted smile and asks, “All right if I touch you? This will be easier with a solid grip.”

“You can touch me however you want,” Sai says, more cheerfully than he would have thought possible. Having an opening for it cheers him up quite a bit, honestly.

Sakumo laughs, though Sai can see there's a faint trace of color in his cheeks. “Hang on, then,” is all he says, and a moment later an arm anchors itself around Sai's waist. There's a blur of leaves and wind, a whirl of air that blurs into streaks of color with the speed of their movement. Sai catches a hint of rooftops and streets, but Sakumo is good at shunshin in a way that’s usually left to jounin; he strings a whole chain of shunshin together, keeps them moving with only the briefest landings to redirect. They make it to the outskirts of the village before they touch down, and though Sakumo is breathing hard he doesn’t waver as he lets Sai go and steps away.

“There,” he says, winded, and offers Sai a kind smile. “My house should be safe for a while. Come in.”

Curious, Sai follows him up the steps, then through the door he holds open. This isn't Kakashi’s apartment—it’s an actual house, traditional and neat, smelling of citrus and cooking curry. He breathes it in, thinking of the last time he saw Ino and the meal she cooked, just the two of them in her house before the monsters woke up, and smiles. He misses her, but that’s a good memory as well. He hasn’t had the chance to think of it in far too long.

 _I’ll see you as well,_ he tells the image of her in his mind. _I’ll make sure you're safe this time around_.

“Kakashi?” Sakumo calls, shutting the door quickly and pulling off his sandals. “Are you home?”

“Who did you think was cooking?” a young voice demands, and a moment later a very, very small version of Kakashi clumps around the corner, only to stop short at the sight of Sai standing in the entranceway. Sai stares back, not entirely sure what to make of this tiny thing with Kakashi’s wild hair but no hitai-ate, no jounin vest. There's a green scarf wrapped around his neck and a mask covering his face, which is a relief to see; Sai doesn’t think he could accept a version of Kakashi that _didn’t_ wear a mask.

“You're tiny,” he says, disbelieving.

Instantaneous offense flashes across Kakashi’s face, and he snaps, “I'm _average_! And you look like a creepy doll!”

“ _Kakashi_ ,” Sakumo protests, stepping between them. “Sai is a _guest_.”

“Then he shouldn’t be rude,” Kakashi retorts, planting his hands on his hips. “ _Why_ is he a guest, Dad?”

“Because he did something very brave that not everyone will appreciate.” Sakumo glances over his shoulder, giving Sai another quick smile. “Sai, this is Kakashi. Kakashi, meet Sai.”

Sai offers Kakashi his brightest smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, only just keeps the _half-pint_ that he wants to tack onto the end to himself. Too soon, given that Kakashi has no idea who he is and Sakumo could still drop him back in the street for too many insults.

“Hmph!” Kakashi gives Sai a glare, just to let him know how things stand, then turns on his heel and marches away, presumably back towards the kitchen.

Sakumo sighs, rubbing a hand over his bound hair. “I'm very sorry about him,” he apologizes. “He’s at a touch age.”

Somehow, Sai suspects that every age is going to be touchy for this Kakashi, right up until Obito's supposed death. “He’s cute,” he says, and it’s hard to contain a mischievous smile. Cute and easy to rile up, which is probably Sai's favorite combination. Sakura and Naruto both fell under that heading, after all.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Sakumo jokes, though really that’s just all the more incentive for Sai to do precisely the opposite. He nudges a pair of slippers towards Sai, then takes a pair for himself and steps into the house, following Kakashi’s path. “We have a spare room you can use, back near the garden. It’s rather rough, but I hope it will be serviceable.”

“I'm used to the barracks,” Sai tells him, which is true enough, just…doesn’t refer to the barracks Sakumo probably thinks it does.

“Well, it should at least be an improvement to that,” Sakumo says, and pushes another door open. “No windows, but that’s likely best right now. You should probably keep the doors closed and not spend too much time in the garden, at least for the next few days.”

So he’s being hidden, not just protected, Sai thinks. From Danzō’s allies, most likely. From what he knows of Kakashi’s father, he chose to support his teammates even over the importance of missions, and that’s likely what this is as well; Sakumo is objecting to Sai being charged for Danzō’s death, and making sure nothing happens before he can press his case.

“Thank you,” Sai says, watching Sakumo turn to face him. Smiles, because it’s a good cover, and asks, “Which elder is it?”

Sakumo smiles wryly. “Utatane. Homura would be easily discouraged, but Utatane has quite a few notions about duty and obedience. It might take a while to throw her off the trail.” He steps back, letting Sai enter the room, and then slips into the hall again. “Let me find you some clothes,” he murmurs, gaze sliding away from Sai, and closes the door.

Sai stares at the closed door for a long moment, then looks away. It’s a small room, bare except for a rolled futon and a bookshelf, with a low table along one wall and an empty vase in the corner.

Well. It’s certainly less exciting than running from monsters, Sai reflects. He’s definitely going to have to secure some ink and his brushes soon, though.

Sinking to his knees in front of the table, he leans forward, tracing his fingers through the light coating of dust there. One line, then another, quick and sure, and he sketches out the outline of Naruto's face, then Sakura's. Stares down at them for a long moment, attention caught, and then closes his eyes.

No more monsters, he thinks. A future where those monsters will never exist at all. Naruto with parents. Sakura with as many friends as she could want. Shin, alive and free of Root, allowed to be whoever and whatever he wants.

 _New_ , the tattoo on his wrist reads, and Sai cradles it, presses his thumb to the characters. A new start. A new goal. A new life to live, and he’ll make sure that his precious people get their chances at the same, no matter what it takes.


End file.
